


Is Everything Blue?

by wildchildrun



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Existential Crisis, First Kiss, Fluffy, Sad, friendstolovers, slight OCD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 12:47:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5128178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildchildrun/pseuds/wildchildrun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan is Babylon. He is trying so hard to be good, but he keeps collapsing. He is dust. He is a thousand misshapen bricks. He is the sadness of a million people. </p><p>(or, the one where dan has an existential crisis and phil helps.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is Everything Blue?

**Author's Note:**

> hello all, this is my fic here and turned into something i wasn't expecting it to. it's close to home, and anywho i hope u all enjoy and have a pleasant day :)
> 
> also, this is a work of FICTION. idk dan or phil i just wanted to write a thing, this in no way represents the actual dnp :)

Dan's skin felt scratchy and his eyes were bloodshot to hell, because those were his body's way of saying- get some sleep you twat. He probably would have nodded off, but he found an article. Something with an interesting title, about deep sea life. He clicked on it, waited for the internet to load, hummed a tune of anime theme song he had watched ages ago, but then. It was mostly pictures. The creatures were captured in high definition, the blue of the ocean encompassing the borders, filling up impossible amounts of space. It was fucking terrifying. Their eyes bulged and their skin was scaly and alien. The pictures got weirder and weirder and he felt like maybe humanity should not have gone to the point it was at- one where there were pictures of things that were clearly mistakes from hell. The ocean was massive and full, teeming with huge things that lay quiet. He tries to think rationally. Of course, the ocean was a massive swirling pit of the unknown, but so what? It is deep and seemingly endless, but so what?

His heart beats a little faster. 

The ocean's are huge. The world is bigger. The universe can blink out of existence at any given moment. 

Suddenly, he is acutely aware of Phil leaning over his shoulder, glancing at the article. 

"Want some hot chocolate?" His voice is soft and tired, and Dan wants to steal it and wrap himself in a blanket of how kind it is.

He can't tear his eyes away from his screen for a moment, but when he turns and sees Phil, he inhales sharply. His eyes were the same blue of the ocean. Dan can't say anything for a second, tries to think of anything but Drowning. Their faces are bathed in the unnatural light of the laptop, Phil's glasses reflect the screen and it is wrong. Phil looks at him oddly, clearly waiting for some sort of response. 

Dan nods, three shaky movements, pulls out the stray earbud that had stopped playing music a while ago, and get's up. Think rationally. You are home. You are with your best friend. Nothing can hurt you. 

Phil is asking him something, again. His eyes are tired, now. Faded. But still the blue of things unknown. A strange buzzing noise is filling his ears, overwhelming in a way he recognizes. The sounds of it all are pressing in closer and closer. He counts every step, tries to even his heartbeat out. The kitchen is lighter than the living room. His eyes adjust, but he feels uneasy. He feels the fullness of the ocean calling to him from so far away.

He leans against the counter, puts his forehead on the cool cabinets. Takes a deep breath, in and out. Again, he feels Phil's warm presence. A hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles. 

"You alright?" His voice is too soft to not know. 

Dan wants to answer, but his voice has left him, his voice is just gone. It's in hiding for now. He wants to say, yes of course I am. He wants to say, I am scared. He just leans back into Phil's arms, lets himself forget how tiny and meaningless life is. Phil's glasses brush up on his cheek. 

"Dan, when was the last time you left the house?" 

Dan cringes, clears his throat, "A week ago."

Phil scolds slightly, "Dan." 

"I know." His voice is gruff and scraggly, sounds ancient. 

Phil drags him along to the couch and tells him to hold still. After a few minutes, he wonders if Phil has just gone back to sleep. It stings, the thought does, but then he sees his socks padding across the floor carefully. 

"It's hot." Phil blows on Dan's drink and gives it to him. The static in his head lessens, becomes more of a crackle, a distant thunderstorm. 

Be rational, Dan. You aren't drowning. The world isn't collapsing. He takes a sip, smiles against the mug slightly, "It's sweet." 

"I think it's meant to be." Phil says softly. He sits closer to Dan still. Dan lets himself slump against Phil. He feels small but safer. He kind of wants to climb inside of Phils skin and stay there. 

He takes another sip and turns to look at Phil. He smiles again, "Your wearing my hoodie, you thief." 

"You're wearing my socks." 

Their knees knock together as they rearrange themselves to sit across from one another on the couch. Phil looks different at three a.m. His hair is ruffled and his stubble is coming in. But it's more than that. He looks softer- blurrier. Nighttime does that, he knows. It erases the boundaries, the edges. Their boundaries had always been too cloudy. Sometimes it felt like a coordinated dance they had to understand. There were made up rules and exceptions and it hurt his brain if he thought about it too much.

Phil leans in close and Dan follows instinctively, "Dan, you are special."

Dan leans back, feels like Babylon. He is trying so hard to be good, but he keeps collapsing. He is dust. He is a thousand misshapen bricks. He is the sadness of a million people. 

"No, Dan. Stop for a second and listen to me." 

Dan feels his eyes well up, the static is screaming at him. "Okay." Okay. Okay. Okay. 

Suddenly, he remembers meeting Phil, years ago. The subtle push and pull of their relationship, the way it grew and stretched until it fit them properly. How sometimes there aren't enough gaps. They make it work, don't they?

"Dan, you are important. You might think right now you don't matter, but you're incredibly wrong. You are my best friend. Dan, are you listening?"

He is for sure crying now, ugly crying- with a scratchy throat and a red face. 

"Dan you are loved. I love you. You never need to be sad, but sometimes. Sometimes, it will come. I promise you it will pass. It's temporary. But, I love you right now and forever. Okay?"

Dan nods, and the streams are still coming down his face, but it's lessening now. Phil knocks their foreheads together, and mutters something about the both of them needing sleep. They head to the bedroom, and Dan doesn't hesitate before he climbs into Phil's bed. Their bodies fit together in a way that makes sense to Dan. He's facing Phil, and Phil is tracing the outline of his face, and breathing deeply. He needs sleep, clearly, because his mind starts slipping out of reality. His eyes shut from exhaustion, his body becoming softer than it was. 

Phil kisses his eyelids, which makes them flutter open, but he keeps going. He kisses the shell of Dan's ear. His lips are kind of dry in a way Dan likes. He ghosts over his cheeks, before kissing each one too. His kisses his cupids bow, then goes back up to his nose and his forehead. It's not something Phil does usually, but it's not unwelcome. 

Dan wonders, if he'll kiss his lips. He wouldn't be opposed to it, which is weird, considering they're friends. It is weird isn't it?

"I love you, Dan. If you feel sad, remember that." 

Dan decides to kiss him, then. But in a friend way. Does that make sense? He has trouble trying to freak out over the implications about kissing Phil in his bed, because Phil is kissing right back. There was a weird moment, where he wasn't sure he was kissing right, if at all, because Phil just froze against his lips. Then he did- softly biting at Dan's lips, and holding him close.

He pulls away, for a moment, "Dan, tomorrow me and you are going out. We'll have a really fun day. We'll go rollerskating maybe. Get food." 

"As friends?" 

"As whatever you want. Tomorrow is about you. I need you to be okay." The last part is whispered, but Dan stills hears it. 

The ocean is very far away, he realizes. He doesn't have to tell himself to be rational, because his heart rate has slowed down to an acceptable rate. The warm light of the morning sun has entered the room, making everything seem golden and beautiful. 

Golden and beautiful, golden and beautiful, golden and beautiful.

Tomorrow will be good.


End file.
